Somewhere, way deep inside, there's an optimist that's been fighting to break free. She wants to say things like "today is a great day because I'm alive" and believes the people on the side of the road asking for money are really down on their luck and just need a little help for a few weeks so they can pick themselves up. The optimist really, really wants to give people the benefit of the doubt. At least, that is, until she sees something like a man who has been on the side of the road with a cardboard sign walk through the Wal-Mart grocery store's parking lot, put his cardboard sign behind a garbage can, and walk into, wait for it...the liquor store. Yes, you read that correctly, the man was walking through the GROCERY store parking lot and he walked into the LIQUOR store.
I know, I know, alcoholism is a disease and it's very sad that a man who was probably in his 20s spent his day begging for money so he can get something to drink, but it's hard for me to believe the people that really are down on their luck and going to spend my hard earned money on food or a place to sleep. But isn't that just another reason I shouldn't give a person asking for money the means to help feed their addiction? Aren't I just an enabler if I give them money?
We've all heard stories about the friend who gave someone groceries instead of money and the groceries were refused because cash is what the man in the Publix parking lot was really after. Or, another one of my favorites, is the time I was feeling some guilt over not giving a man money (who, by the way, was on another corner from where I was and I couldn't physically give him the money) when he got in his car and, with his reflective vest still on, cut me off several miles down the road while he was drinking a beer. Drinking and driving - that's a great thing to support. And so, I ask, am I terrible person for refusing to give people money anymore?
I always wanted to be the Good Samaritan but I'm beginning to feel a bit more like one of the first two that passed the traveler without giving him another thought. But sometimes I hear a little voice inside, telling me things will get better, and the people that ruin it for everyone else are a small portion of the population. Maybe the optimist has a chance after all.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
A Flying Ant
All my life I thought that when I got married, I would drop my middle name, my maiden name would become my middle name, and my husband's last name would become mine. I don't remember the first time someone suggested something different but I remember being very confused. What do you mean your maiden name wouldn't just become your middle name? How does that happen? You mean, some people don't do it that way!?!?!
I thought it was just automatic and you somehow had to opt out of the name change. Of course, this is a silly thought, but I am sure I was young and simply didn't know any better. Now, however, I know better. I know you can keep your middle name, maiden name, both names, or forgo any sort of name change at all. Heck, my mother dropped her first name, her middle name is her "new" first name, her maiden name is her "new" middle name, and she took my father's last name as her own. Nonetheless, I always assumed I would do what I thought was traditional and drop my middle name.
That is, of course, until I found out my last name and Ryan's last name combined remind me of a flying ant. Ryan - don't worry, I'm not suggesting I won't be changing my name and this has nothing to do with your last name by itself but our last names together. I'm not going to have a hyphenated last name and I know I will not introduce myself using all of my names, but I will always know that my middle name and last name remind me of a flying ant if I choose to go the "traditional" route.
What's a girl to do?
Keeping all of my names and adding Ryan's doesn't fix the problem as our last names would still be together at the end. I thought about keeping my middle name and just switching out the last name but I don't know if I could do that. It has never bothered me that one day I would give up my last name and take my husband's because I never thought I would really be giving it up, it would just be shifting. But now, faced with the prospect of giving up my last name, well, I don't really want to do it. It's been my last name my whole life and although my middle name has too, I always knew that it might one day leave me or I could have four names. And so, one day shy of 7 months until the day until our wedding, I find myself asking, "Do I want to say goodbye to my really awesome last name for good or forever be a flying ant?"
I thought it was just automatic and you somehow had to opt out of the name change. Of course, this is a silly thought, but I am sure I was young and simply didn't know any better. Now, however, I know better. I know you can keep your middle name, maiden name, both names, or forgo any sort of name change at all. Heck, my mother dropped her first name, her middle name is her "new" first name, her maiden name is her "new" middle name, and she took my father's last name as her own. Nonetheless, I always assumed I would do what I thought was traditional and drop my middle name.
That is, of course, until I found out my last name and Ryan's last name combined remind me of a flying ant. Ryan - don't worry, I'm not suggesting I won't be changing my name and this has nothing to do with your last name by itself but our last names together. I'm not going to have a hyphenated last name and I know I will not introduce myself using all of my names, but I will always know that my middle name and last name remind me of a flying ant if I choose to go the "traditional" route.
What's a girl to do?
Keeping all of my names and adding Ryan's doesn't fix the problem as our last names would still be together at the end. I thought about keeping my middle name and just switching out the last name but I don't know if I could do that. It has never bothered me that one day I would give up my last name and take my husband's because I never thought I would really be giving it up, it would just be shifting. But now, faced with the prospect of giving up my last name, well, I don't really want to do it. It's been my last name my whole life and although my middle name has too, I always knew that it might one day leave me or I could have four names. And so, one day shy of 7 months until the day until our wedding, I find myself asking, "Do I want to say goodbye to my really awesome last name for good or forever be a flying ant?"
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
You Are Not Invited
Do you have any idea how many wedding invitation designs there are? There are roughly 1,320,975,082. Each invitation has several different options, accompaniments, accessories, and matching hoopla to go along with it. You can change colors, fonts, sizes, envelopes, inserts, packaging, etc. I made the mistake of beginning to peruse invitations two or three weeks ago and have become completely overwhelmed. Do I want an inner envelope, belly band, or neither? RSVP card with an envelope or RSVP postcard? Solid paper or a pattern? My head is swimming. Finally, I thought I was getting somewhere, dismissing invitations I didn't think were just right, too expensive, or the quality appeared cheap. Time to order some sample invitations. I found three from one company and ordered them so I could see what we were working with. Quite pleased when they came in, I showed them to my mother. Bad. Idea.
Apparently, my mother does not like contemporary or modern fonts, she likes traditional fonts. And who knew my mother, lover of all things Amy Butler, would think a little damask print on the side with a stripe of color would be too busy? Certainly, not I. I thought she would delight in such a pretty find. Wrong. So very wrong.
So I began the search anew. Ryan doesn't like anything that's too feminine, floral, or paisley (I know, I couldn't believe it either). Desperately seeking something that would satisfy everyone, I sent my mom options. Loads and loads of options. Oddly enough, the ones she told me she liked were all ecru, cream, or white, with a traditional font, and a small little doodle at the very top (such doodles included roses, flowers, and swirls). Puzzled, I went over to my parents' house last night to look at invitations only to find my favorites were her least favorites.
And then, we got to the heart of the issue. The invitations I love just don't look like wedding invitations to her. We're doing things the old-fashioned way, with my parents hosting the reception, and my mom really can't stand all those invitations where the children, together with their parents, are inviting everyone to the wedding. Not to worry, I assured her, we're going to use the traditional wording, complete with the phrase "honour of your presence" since we're having a church wedding, and we'll even use the British English spelling. Oh, and invitations aren't really supposed to be colorful. I mean, a little color (like the swirl at the top) would be fine, but all this color all over the place, well, Miss Manners simply wouldn't approve. My mother was born in Kentucky, raised in the South, and has excellent manners, but I can count on one hand the number of times she has tried to convince me of anything by trying to convince me it is what Miss Manners would say is appropriate. However, she has grown up with the simple, formal invitation, and that is what she was expecting me to do.
In my mother's defense, she has moved away from the super formal invitation a little and never once did she utter the word "letterpress" or mention hiring a calligrapher. She knows me too well to think I would dare do anything other than, at a minimum, write each and every address in my very best handwriting. And just so you know, I bought myself a kit to learn calligraphy in my free time.
All those of you who love all things wedding, I'm looking for suggestions on our invitations. We may have found a compromise with a different damask print than the one I originally ordered, but I'm not convinced it's going to work. Unless we come up with something, I regret to inform you that you are not invited to our wedding but only because we won't have invitations to send.
Apparently, my mother does not like contemporary or modern fonts, she likes traditional fonts. And who knew my mother, lover of all things Amy Butler, would think a little damask print on the side with a stripe of color would be too busy? Certainly, not I. I thought she would delight in such a pretty find. Wrong. So very wrong.
So I began the search anew. Ryan doesn't like anything that's too feminine, floral, or paisley (I know, I couldn't believe it either). Desperately seeking something that would satisfy everyone, I sent my mom options. Loads and loads of options. Oddly enough, the ones she told me she liked were all ecru, cream, or white, with a traditional font, and a small little doodle at the very top (such doodles included roses, flowers, and swirls). Puzzled, I went over to my parents' house last night to look at invitations only to find my favorites were her least favorites.
And then, we got to the heart of the issue. The invitations I love just don't look like wedding invitations to her. We're doing things the old-fashioned way, with my parents hosting the reception, and my mom really can't stand all those invitations where the children, together with their parents, are inviting everyone to the wedding. Not to worry, I assured her, we're going to use the traditional wording, complete with the phrase "honour of your presence" since we're having a church wedding, and we'll even use the British English spelling. Oh, and invitations aren't really supposed to be colorful. I mean, a little color (like the swirl at the top) would be fine, but all this color all over the place, well, Miss Manners simply wouldn't approve. My mother was born in Kentucky, raised in the South, and has excellent manners, but I can count on one hand the number of times she has tried to convince me of anything by trying to convince me it is what Miss Manners would say is appropriate. However, she has grown up with the simple, formal invitation, and that is what she was expecting me to do.
In my mother's defense, she has moved away from the super formal invitation a little and never once did she utter the word "letterpress" or mention hiring a calligrapher. She knows me too well to think I would dare do anything other than, at a minimum, write each and every address in my very best handwriting. And just so you know, I bought myself a kit to learn calligraphy in my free time.
All those of you who love all things wedding, I'm looking for suggestions on our invitations. We may have found a compromise with a different damask print than the one I originally ordered, but I'm not convinced it's going to work. Unless we come up with something, I regret to inform you that you are not invited to our wedding but only because we won't have invitations to send.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Stupid Blogger App
The advent of the smartphone and its ever increasing popularity, especially those types with apps galore to choose from, has made my life both infinitely more simple and way more aggravating. While I'm at dinner with my parents and in-laws I can look up the names of former FSU quarterbacks/geniuses who were injured while playing with chemicals in their apartment. Need to add something to my grocery list? No problem, I can scan something before I throw the package away or just type it in and my handy Out of Milk app adds it to my list. Dieting? Try My Fitness Pal to track your exercise and food intake. One of my favorite finds was the Blogger app. I could sit in a doctor's waiting room, at an airport, or just about anywhere else and use my down time to blog. Fabulous, right? Wrong! The other day I spent all this time writing the most fabulous blog post. No, really, it must have been the best blog post ever in the history of blog posts. I am convinced it was so fabulous not because I wrote it but because well, it's gone. The post was almost complete when I had to put the phone down. "No problem," I thought to myself, "I'll just finish it later and then I'll even have time to proof it." Later I went back to my phone ready to finish my masterpiece but it wasn't there. Apparently, I have no mobile posts. Again, I did not think it would be a problem as the post probably went to cyberspace and would be waiting for me when I got to a computer. Wrong again. The post is gone. Nowhere to be found. It vanished into thin air (or cyber-air). Naturally, I have now built the post up in my head as the best post ever because I can't recreate it.
Stupid Blogger app, we'll see if I ever use you again. So there!
Stupid Blogger app, we'll see if I ever use you again. So there!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
But We NEED It
The other day I found myself explaining to Ryan why we were adding pots, pans, all manner of kitchen gadgetry, and other things that we might already have as a couple, each own individually, or he has gotten along without just fine for the past 29 years, to our registry. Obviously, it's because we need these items for our kitchen that we will have in our home when we move in together. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Do you have a preference on pots and pans?
Ryan: Don't we have pots and pans?
Me: Yes, but do you have a preference on the ones we're going to register for?
Ryan: Why are we registering for them if we already have them? Between the two of us, we could probably open a restaurant with the kitchen we have.
Me: Well, yes, but we're registering for a nice matching set that we'll have for roughly forever. These are the pots and pans that are meant to last us 20 years, not the ones we have bought ourselves that are not quite as nice and have some scratches and some of them might be starting to lose their non-stick coating. We're talking ALL-CLAD and CALAPHON here.
Ryan: But between the two of us, I'm sure we have a full set that we can still use.
Me: We're getting married and we need to accept that people will give us presents, so we have two options - we can register for a variety of things we like and will use for a very long time, or we can not register and get things like crystal candy bowls that we do not want and will not use.
Ryan: Pick whatever you want. I don't think I'm going to understand this whole registering thing.
Before I continue, let me just apologize to those of you that were offended by my crystal candy bowl remark. I do not hate them. We have a lot of knick knacks and I try not to keep candy in the house. Therefore, a crystal candy bowl will clutter up the house and simply collect dust. Those of you that will use them should definitely have them. Glad that's out of the way.
The conversation about pots and pans (which happened in several variations more times than I care to admit), which left both of us shaking our heads, highlights so many of the things I love about Ryan. As he pointed out last night, he just isn't a wasteful person. We have pots and pans that work - why would we get new ones? This is a great trait when it comes to using what you have and I love that he isn't throwing things out left and right, but we can take them to Goodwill or give them to my little brothers or sisters when they move into the first place they need to supply, just like people gave Ryan and I things when we first moved out on our own. Ryan is also, um, shall we say...frugal. He doesn't use the niceties and would probably just tell you that he's cheap, but I prefer words like frugal, budget conscious, and saving for our future. There are absolutely things he will not hesitate to spend money on, like my engagement ring or a new camera, but he's not stupid about it, he got my ring from a wholesaler who is a friend of his family's and his new camera on Amazon after he did some price comparisons. Because of this, we will probably not have a panic attack about how much we've saved for retirement when we turn 50 and can have our student loans paid off earlier than many of our counterparts, especially if he's able to reign me in a little :). And most importantly, it reminded me that when he realizes resistance is futile, he should smile, nod, shake his head a little if necessary, and just let me go on my merry little way. He is certainly not a pushover but at the end of the day, this wasn't worth an argument and he doesn't care about the pots and pans so rather than continue to even discuss it, he just gave in and told me he'll love whatever I pick out.
His one condition for my registry gun slinging spree? That I actually cook at some point in time. Fine, I'll do it. I'll probably even like it. I may even cook meat. After all, we are registering for french ovens (way fancier than the dutch kind) and such.
And so, some online shopping I will do. Good, solid roasting pan? Yes! What did you say about me being a vegetarian? Yes, well, we'll host Thanksgiving dinner eventually and I'm going to make the best, most moist turkey ever, even if I won't be eating any of it. Immersion blender, standing mixer, measuring cups, mixing bowls, everyday dishes, casual entertaining dishes, measuring spoon, baking pans, muffin tins...
Okay, fine, I might have gotten a little out of control. I may have even deleted roughly half of what we registered for because I needed to think about it and talk things over with Ryan. There's a temporary hiatus on registering. Ryan needs a breather, I need to do some research and read reviews, and I think we need a plan of action before I'm turned loose with the scanning gun or clicking happily on the internet.
But that won't stop me from drooling over all the things Le Creuset makes. What!?!?!? He said I could pick out whatever I want, thankyouverymuch. Besides, we NEED it.
Me: Do you have a preference on pots and pans?
Ryan: Don't we have pots and pans?
Me: Yes, but do you have a preference on the ones we're going to register for?
Ryan: Why are we registering for them if we already have them? Between the two of us, we could probably open a restaurant with the kitchen we have.
Me: Well, yes, but we're registering for a nice matching set that we'll have for roughly forever. These are the pots and pans that are meant to last us 20 years, not the ones we have bought ourselves that are not quite as nice and have some scratches and some of them might be starting to lose their non-stick coating. We're talking ALL-CLAD and CALAPHON here.
Ryan: But between the two of us, I'm sure we have a full set that we can still use.
Me: We're getting married and we need to accept that people will give us presents, so we have two options - we can register for a variety of things we like and will use for a very long time, or we can not register and get things like crystal candy bowls that we do not want and will not use.
Ryan: Pick whatever you want. I don't think I'm going to understand this whole registering thing.
Before I continue, let me just apologize to those of you that were offended by my crystal candy bowl remark. I do not hate them. We have a lot of knick knacks and I try not to keep candy in the house. Therefore, a crystal candy bowl will clutter up the house and simply collect dust. Those of you that will use them should definitely have them. Glad that's out of the way.
The conversation about pots and pans (which happened in several variations more times than I care to admit), which left both of us shaking our heads, highlights so many of the things I love about Ryan. As he pointed out last night, he just isn't a wasteful person. We have pots and pans that work - why would we get new ones? This is a great trait when it comes to using what you have and I love that he isn't throwing things out left and right, but we can take them to Goodwill or give them to my little brothers or sisters when they move into the first place they need to supply, just like people gave Ryan and I things when we first moved out on our own. Ryan is also, um, shall we say...frugal. He doesn't use the niceties and would probably just tell you that he's cheap, but I prefer words like frugal, budget conscious, and saving for our future. There are absolutely things he will not hesitate to spend money on, like my engagement ring or a new camera, but he's not stupid about it, he got my ring from a wholesaler who is a friend of his family's and his new camera on Amazon after he did some price comparisons. Because of this, we will probably not have a panic attack about how much we've saved for retirement when we turn 50 and can have our student loans paid off earlier than many of our counterparts, especially if he's able to reign me in a little :). And most importantly, it reminded me that when he realizes resistance is futile, he should smile, nod, shake his head a little if necessary, and just let me go on my merry little way. He is certainly not a pushover but at the end of the day, this wasn't worth an argument and he doesn't care about the pots and pans so rather than continue to even discuss it, he just gave in and told me he'll love whatever I pick out.
His one condition for my registry gun slinging spree? That I actually cook at some point in time. Fine, I'll do it. I'll probably even like it. I may even cook meat. After all, we are registering for french ovens (way fancier than the dutch kind) and such.
And so, some online shopping I will do. Good, solid roasting pan? Yes! What did you say about me being a vegetarian? Yes, well, we'll host Thanksgiving dinner eventually and I'm going to make the best, most moist turkey ever, even if I won't be eating any of it. Immersion blender, standing mixer, measuring cups, mixing bowls, everyday dishes, casual entertaining dishes, measuring spoon, baking pans, muffin tins...
Okay, fine, I might have gotten a little out of control. I may have even deleted roughly half of what we registered for because I needed to think about it and talk things over with Ryan. There's a temporary hiatus on registering. Ryan needs a breather, I need to do some research and read reviews, and I think we need a plan of action before I'm turned loose with the scanning gun or clicking happily on the internet.
But that won't stop me from drooling over all the things Le Creuset makes. What!?!?!? He said I could pick out whatever I want, thankyouverymuch. Besides, we NEED it.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Grateful
Today, and every other day, I am grateful. I am grateful for more things than I can begin to tell you.
I am grateful...
for Ryan, the love of my life who loves me unconditionally and patiently (well, mostly) waits for the crazy to pass.
for my parents, who taught me almost everything I know.
for my brothers and sisters, who are always there for me, no matter how crazy we may make each other.
for my friends, whose laughter and support gets me through on a regular basis.
for my job, which allows me to pay my bills, and so many people these days are without.
for the fact I work in a small office, which is more like a home (thankfully, since I often spend more time in the office than my actual home).
for my co-workers, who are more like an extended family.
that I have two loving parents, who are just as committed to each other as they are to each of their children, setting a wonderful example for how to make a marriage work.
for my sweet little puppy Isabella, whose sole mission in life seems to be to make sure I don't oversleep. Ever.
There are so many things I have to be grateful for but it's all too easy to sometimes forget about the good things in life and focus on the negative. Today is not one of those days for me. Today, I am just grateful.
I am grateful...
for Ryan, the love of my life who loves me unconditionally and patiently (well, mostly) waits for the crazy to pass.
for my parents, who taught me almost everything I know.
for my brothers and sisters, who are always there for me, no matter how crazy we may make each other.
for my friends, whose laughter and support gets me through on a regular basis.
for my job, which allows me to pay my bills, and so many people these days are without.
for the fact I work in a small office, which is more like a home (thankfully, since I often spend more time in the office than my actual home).
for my co-workers, who are more like an extended family.
that I have two loving parents, who are just as committed to each other as they are to each of their children, setting a wonderful example for how to make a marriage work.
for my sweet little puppy Isabella, whose sole mission in life seems to be to make sure I don't oversleep. Ever.
There are so many things I have to be grateful for but it's all too easy to sometimes forget about the good things in life and focus on the negative. Today is not one of those days for me. Today, I am just grateful.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Exercises in Stain Removal
This post involves less than pleasant things which might be described as icky, gross, disgusting, and the list goes on. Bodily "fluids" are involved but not the type that come from injuries or result from things you don't want to discuss with your parents. I recommend you not read it while, just before, or just after eating. You have been warned.
I woke up this morning and finally, around 5:30 or 6, took puppy outside. I promptly went back to bed until 6:30, took a shower, and began putting on my make-up. I was on my way back to my bathroom to put my make-up away, surprise, there was a wet spot on my carpet. Quick check around the area was enough to determine it was not from my wet feet after the shower. It was a pronounced spot which could come from only one thing - Isabella's bladder. My fault for not taking her out before 5 a.m. I know, I know, taking her water away at least an hour before I last take her out and then go to bed just isn't good enough. Silly me for thinking she might hold it until 6. No worries, Isabella wasn't yelled at or chastised other than me saying "Isabella" much the way your mother would say your name when you were getting sassy or telling a lie and there's no anger, it's just a warning you might want to watch it because it took her longer than normal to say your name. Instead, I blotted it up, poured Nature's Miracle on it, and was glad it was on a section of the carpet I had not yet spot treated. Yes, that's right, I'm in the process of spot treating my carpet. Isabella's had accidents, things have been spilled, the previous tenants used a stain remover that ruined any stain resistance the carpet had, and sometimes it requires me to get down on my hands and knees, douse an area in stain remover, let it sit, and blot before I add another layer of stain remover that will be allowed to dry completely. Luckily, when I got home after work, there was no evidence anything had happened aside from the slightly damp carpet. Begin congratulations - self, you did such a great job properly treating that stain this morning, you should be quite proud of yourself and your excellent stain removal skills.
And then, I saw the chaise.
What is. . .? Did she? No, she couldn't have? Is that vomit? Oh please tell me that's vomit and not . . . Surely it's not. What can you possibly do about a stain on suede furniture. It's not like the cushion cover can come off and go in the wash. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed a big wad of paper towels and started scraping/soaking up the mess. Quick adjustment - get the whole roll of paper towels. Back to the chaise to atta... NO! Not the carpet too! And then the instructions to myself inside my head began - Gather yourself. Seriously, pull yourself together, you can handle this. You are not a "Real" Housewife of XYZ, you are a real-life, soon-to-be, actual housewife. Time for a plan of action. First attack the carpet, it's much smaller. Scrape/soak, douse with stain treatment, and focus on the chaise. Lots of scraping/soaking up the mess on the chaise, and back to the carpet. Soak up stain treatment stuff, get as much solid material up as possible, and completely soak carpet with medicinal smelling stain fighting awesomeness. And back to the chaise. Cover spot in stain fighter. More paper towels. You might as well accept you could very well use a whole roll on just this incident. Blot, soak, scrape, spray. Repeat. Check the carpet.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself. The carpet stain appears to have disappeared. I can't see anything solid on the chaise and the spot has been sufficiently drenched with my handy dandy spray bottle of goodness. So, I covered the spots with layers and layers of paper towels so I would not walk on the grossness. Granted, the paper towels covering the spot on the chaise may have started turning green, which happens to be the color of the chaise (meaning my stain remover may also be removing the dyes on my most comfortable piece of furniture), but what does that matter when I am a bona fide stain expert? Ryan will be happy to know I can handle any stain emergency that comes our way.
So, what have we learned from this experience?
1) Buy more stain remover. Lots more stain remover.
2) Suede may not be the best choice for furniture.
3) May want to find a stain remover that won't remove the dyes from my furniture.
4) Perhaps it really is time to teach Isabella to stay off the furniture.
5) If you come over to my house and see paper towels all over the place - avoid them - it's not me being messy.
But, here's the good news. Bet you didn't think there was a good news, did you? The good news is Isabella looks like she's doing just fine and I don't think she's sick and I was planning on replacing the chaise anyway. More good news - I have found my procrastination for the evening and instead of studying for my take home exam that was recently posted, I get to internet window shop for the new furniture Ryan and I are going to get for our new place. All in all, not bad for a Monday.
I woke up this morning and finally, around 5:30 or 6, took puppy outside. I promptly went back to bed until 6:30, took a shower, and began putting on my make-up. I was on my way back to my bathroom to put my make-up away, surprise, there was a wet spot on my carpet. Quick check around the area was enough to determine it was not from my wet feet after the shower. It was a pronounced spot which could come from only one thing - Isabella's bladder. My fault for not taking her out before 5 a.m. I know, I know, taking her water away at least an hour before I last take her out and then go to bed just isn't good enough. Silly me for thinking she might hold it until 6. No worries, Isabella wasn't yelled at or chastised other than me saying "Isabella" much the way your mother would say your name when you were getting sassy or telling a lie and there's no anger, it's just a warning you might want to watch it because it took her longer than normal to say your name. Instead, I blotted it up, poured Nature's Miracle on it, and was glad it was on a section of the carpet I had not yet spot treated. Yes, that's right, I'm in the process of spot treating my carpet. Isabella's had accidents, things have been spilled, the previous tenants used a stain remover that ruined any stain resistance the carpet had, and sometimes it requires me to get down on my hands and knees, douse an area in stain remover, let it sit, and blot before I add another layer of stain remover that will be allowed to dry completely. Luckily, when I got home after work, there was no evidence anything had happened aside from the slightly damp carpet. Begin congratulations - self, you did such a great job properly treating that stain this morning, you should be quite proud of yourself and your excellent stain removal skills.
And then, I saw the chaise.
What is. . .? Did she? No, she couldn't have? Is that vomit? Oh please tell me that's vomit and not . . . Surely it's not. What can you possibly do about a stain on suede furniture. It's not like the cushion cover can come off and go in the wash. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed a big wad of paper towels and started scraping/soaking up the mess. Quick adjustment - get the whole roll of paper towels. Back to the chaise to atta... NO! Not the carpet too! And then the instructions to myself inside my head began - Gather yourself. Seriously, pull yourself together, you can handle this. You are not a "Real" Housewife of XYZ, you are a real-life, soon-to-be, actual housewife. Time for a plan of action. First attack the carpet, it's much smaller. Scrape/soak, douse with stain treatment, and focus on the chaise. Lots of scraping/soaking up the mess on the chaise, and back to the carpet. Soak up stain treatment stuff, get as much solid material up as possible, and completely soak carpet with medicinal smelling stain fighting awesomeness. And back to the chaise. Cover spot in stain fighter. More paper towels. You might as well accept you could very well use a whole roll on just this incident. Blot, soak, scrape, spray. Repeat. Check the carpet.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself. The carpet stain appears to have disappeared. I can't see anything solid on the chaise and the spot has been sufficiently drenched with my handy dandy spray bottle of goodness. So, I covered the spots with layers and layers of paper towels so I would not walk on the grossness. Granted, the paper towels covering the spot on the chaise may have started turning green, which happens to be the color of the chaise (meaning my stain remover may also be removing the dyes on my most comfortable piece of furniture), but what does that matter when I am a bona fide stain expert? Ryan will be happy to know I can handle any stain emergency that comes our way.
So, what have we learned from this experience?
1) Buy more stain remover. Lots more stain remover.
2) Suede may not be the best choice for furniture.
3) May want to find a stain remover that won't remove the dyes from my furniture.
4) Perhaps it really is time to teach Isabella to stay off the furniture.
5) If you come over to my house and see paper towels all over the place - avoid them - it's not me being messy.
But, here's the good news. Bet you didn't think there was a good news, did you? The good news is Isabella looks like she's doing just fine and I don't think she's sick and I was planning on replacing the chaise anyway. More good news - I have found my procrastination for the evening and instead of studying for my take home exam that was recently posted, I get to internet window shop for the new furniture Ryan and I are going to get for our new place. All in all, not bad for a Monday.
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